The chauffeur had been watching their every movement. He peered anxiously up and down the road, by which he had come, expecting, no doubt, the arrival of his accomplices in the taxi.
Not a drop of rain had fallen as yet from the threatening clouds that swept furiously overhead, though the winds tore the branches from the trees.
“Now show me the exact spot where these bodies were found,” said Nick.
The inspector walked down the road.
“Who is that?” Nick asked, as his quick eye perceived the figure of a ragged-looking old man who sat by the roadside. His clothing was in tatters; his long hair was matted on his shoulders, and his torn shoes were tied with bits of cord.
In his right hand he carried a heavy staff.
He appeared to be either shortsighted or partially blind.
“Oh, that old fellow bobbed up here about a week or so ago,” said Inspector Ward.
“What is he?”
“Oh, I guess he’s a tramp; anyhow, he looks as if he had been on the road for forty years or more.”